One of the oldest MP3 labels on the Net takes a jump into CD production this month with the release of four new albums, including this double-CD compilation of No Type artists. David Turgeon’s No Type has remained an outsider label, showcasing in-between experimental styles bordering electronic music, noise, minimalism, and musique concrète. At its best, it is challenging, evocative, and stimulating; at is worst — which is rare — it is noisy and too easily pigeon-holed as noise or hardcore. However, this compilation, if a pigeon, ate its own shadow, leaving no hole for it to climb through.

Such a diverse amount of styles are represented — from Tomas Jirku’s subtle minimal groove I Think I’m In Love to the bass-tone work of Le Chien Borgne and the tonal-cuts of Julie Rousse’s Une à six idées improvisées — that I can only summarise them briefly in parantheses and short comments here. As a purchase — for don’t we all want practical reviews now? — the double-pack is well worth the effort, for its vast depth is breathtaking in its collection of artists and styles whose talents are undeniable. There are few compilations out there that touch upon so many issues in contemporary, we could say non-academic, experimental music. Like BiP-HoP, No Type is dedicated to the odd, the obtuse, and the wicked in the genres of microsound, noise, IDM — it’s really a milieu of all these catchwords, leaving the listener strangely comfortable in a sea of sound despite that fact the she is lost beyond compare, a veritable Alice in the hands of someone who has lost all language, all speech to tell musical directions: above all, Alice is in the land of No Type…

Bien avant l’arrivée de Windows, les «trackers» étaient les rois des logiciels de composition dans le domaine de la musique électronique, mais l’environnement graphique de l’Oncle Bill a tôt fait de les étouffer, remplacés par des programmes beaucoup plus intuitifs et moins complexes. Ce qui n’est pas un mal en soi. Cependant, Frédérick Blouin de Québec, qui signe sous l’étrange pseudonyme Oeuf Korreckt, s’entête et s’en sert encore des «trakers», nous faisant redécouvrir le son de tout un pan de la musique électronique, séquencé et dominé par des rythmes robotiques. Souvenez-vous de Kraftwerk. Ce n’est pas du tout sans plaisir qu’on écoute Podweek qui comporte de beaux et joyeux moments à la Orbital dans Pochacco et le sensible Alright Well Okay ou le carrément techno hardrore King of the Elephants qui piétinera les cœurs sensibles. Une valeur sûre pour ceux qui sont curieux des sons qu’on n’entend presque plus.

Magali Babin, c’est une «patenteuse», une vraie. Plus jeune, dans la cuisine de ses parents, elle ne devait pas être un cadeau, probablement prête à taper sur tout ce qui fait du bruit. Plusieurs années plus tard, elle ne démord pas et fait de la musique avec tout ce qui lui tombe sous la main. Dans Chemin de fer, elle utilise une multitude d’objets métalliques fabriqués, recyclés, réinventés; la très belle pochette de son disque nous l’indique clairement, d’ailleurs. Fait intéressant: sept des neuf pièces sont improvisées, proposant des œuvres très personnelles et sensibles. Ça démarre en grande avec Triturations, une paisible pièce qui semble nous glisser dans un costume de scaphandrier, mille pieds sous l’océan. Dire qu’en réalité, la musicienne ne fait que frotter des casseroles et autres trouvailles à côté d’un micro! Le tout est réalisé avec la joyeuse complicité de Mario Gauthier et ca paraît.

In 2001 the Canadian Electroacoustic Community (CEC) held its second Jeu de Temps/Times Play competition. Cache 2001 presents (in alphabetical order) the 11 top-scoring compositions presented by young emerging Canadian artists. Most of these composers have yet to step away from their academic studies to find their own voice, but this year’s crop is impressively good nonetheless. They all feature excellent production values and obvious sound wielding talent. Let’s point out a few highlights. Nicolas Basque’s Polyèdres is a rich tapestry of sounds organized in a complicated structure—very good and among the most mature works on this CD. Guillaume Coutu Dumont produces interesting sets of variations from a voice sample in Arianne Secret but it runs a bit long. The shimmering textures in Andrea Holtslander’s soundscaping Steam, Billow introduce a charming pause. Finally, Warren Spicer’s I’ll Distract Myself While You Cry Like a Boxer Tears, besides sporting the oddest title, presents a good amalgam of elongated sounds that recall Koji Asano’s works from 2000-2001. The other pieces have their moments and are satisfactory in general, but they lack that special something that would make them more than forgettable. Cache 2001 is not directly available on the market, but it was sent worldwide to radio stations and organizations supporting electroacoustic music.

I have bought and gotten quite a few ambient/idm compilations lately. And of all these compilations, amongst which was the excellent ambient.02@hyperreal, I must say that this disc, The Freest of Radicals, stands out a lot. First of all, for its wonderful packaging (folded thick paper holding the cd’s within folded, thick paper sleeve within yet another think paper sleeve; only the inner paper is not printed, but the rest contains beautiful artwork). And second, because of it’s awesome journey into that which is, as I like to think, the “real” ambient alongside a few well-done rhythmic tracks.

Now No Type has been a well-known netlabel for it’s MP3 releases (they’re nearing the 70th release now!) and now that they ventured into the world of real cd releases there is no turning back. This compilation, consisting of 36 tracks spread out over two cd’s, is very varied in bringing lots of different stuff together on one compilation. It also holds a certain consistency in feeling, and in quality.

I must say I honestly don’t really know what my own definition of “true” ambient is, but this compilation comes close. It can be very varying though, because when you listen to, for instance, Tomas Jirku and his I Think I’m In Love, you will hear a bit housey beats. It is presented in such a way that it isn’t really house though. And to be honest, this is one of my favorite tracks on the first disc.

It is followed by very minimal glitch-crackle-pop-high-frequency experimental music that reminds of, for instance, dead+hurt.

Other highlights of this disc of the compilation include the glitchy and slightly noisey sounds of Eucci, the minimal rhythms of Claudia Bonarelli, the microsounddesign-ish sounds that accompany the minimal rhythms of Jon Vaughn and the do make say think-ish guitar use of Kanovanik.

The second disc (aka switch disc) starts out way more rhythmic. Well, that is after the Soundtest by Kalx. Oeuf Korreckt and Sluts on Tape both bring rhythmic tracks, and in such a way that it is quite accessible, followed by the sometimes rhythmic but very weird and experimental Knife Takes Blood by Octopus Inc. Alphacat goes way out into the more house/rave type music, yet in a very special way. My personal favorite of the whole compilation though is track by Books on Tape, called Baile Del Muerte. This track is simply amazing. Weird, yet accessible. fast, yet laidback. Very good. Other highlights for this disc are the weird glitchness of Dick Richards, the lushness of Headphone Science, the droning tension of themoonstealingproject and the harsh rhythmic microsounds of n.kra.

All in all, this compilation is something you must get if you like ambient, idm, experimental rhythms or anything in between!

Nipping at the heels of the gripping and fugue-state-inducing eclecticism of the first No Type compilation, The Freest of Radicals, comes this incredible debut CD release from Montréal sound artist Magali Babin. Born in 1967, Babin combines linear yet sculptural metal-based sound pieces with a true flair for dynamism, abstraction and otherworldliness. Although Chemin de fer is the first appearance of material of this nature by her, she has apparently worked with soundscapes featuring the recording of metals for more than a decade now and, possibly as a result of this time-served honing of her skills, her utter control of the proceedings here is totally compelling. The constructions on this album were originally recorded for a radio show in Canada but shelved prematurely and, it would seem perhaps, unfairly. I have to admit I expected some element of coldness and isolation from this disc; but warmth, confusion, playfulness and apprehension all combine in Chemin de fer’s 50 minute journey and prove me wrong. At times, as on the opening Triturations and on E, the musical palette is of some vast, partly steam-driven and partly clockwork organism, respiring and shuffling at the limits of exhaustion; elsewhere, the album title is interpreted near-literally, as with the seemingly endless electrified rolling stock effect of L’entonnoir. These are impressive, intimate soundworks that cross the boundaries of acousmatic music, free improvisation, the pure sound of the gamelan, and early electronic composition methods, and yet retain a recognisable fingerprint that appears to be Babin’s alone. Let’s hope another decade is not allowed to elapse without more from this unique talent.